Counting Stars
by The World in Black and White
Summary: Harry was betrayed by the people he trusted, who tried to kill him and the horcrux within him. Fleeing to a new school, his allies begin a revolution in England while he prepares to take his rightful place, leading them. Meeting new people and allies and even falling in love ensues as he fights for his life and his world. AU, MxM Creature!Submissive!Harry no pairings decided yet


Harry gazed heavenwards, and wondered how not even the stars could brighten the night sky on that night.

In a way, it was strangely ironic, almost like a representation of his whole life. The death of his parents, his mother's sacrifice, the Dursleys, Cedric, being a saviour and finally…

His star, his Sirius, couldn't light up the darkness for him anymore.

He gazed up, and saw his future in death and, oddly enough, the sky. Harry chuckled dryly to himself before whispering to the dark, "Now I know I've spent too much time alone."

"Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings and desperate men." He quoted softly. "Indeed." He closed his eyes, hiding the colour of poison, envy and death in the form of emeralds from the world.

Contemplating it all in a melancholic state of mind, Harry finally came to the conclusion that his life was either a Shakespearean tragedy or a modern sci-fi fantasy novel for children and young adults. But then, it could just have been one of those soap operas Aunt Petunia always watched.

Now all that was missing was for someone to walk up to him, profess their love, only to be informed they were brother and sister, or, in his case, brother and brother, but to each their own, right? Of course, he would then be informed that someone was with his child, only for it to turn out to be his arch enemy's and-

Harry cut himself off. He was rambling again, and speaking out loud and the people in the cell across from his own were staring at him like he was crazy. Who knows, maybe he was?

In his fourth year, that was really when it all began, during the Triwizard Tournament. He was forced to participate in a contest that could have killed him and everyone but Hermione –people he had trusted and respected as friends- turned their backs on him.

Even Ron, his _best_ friend, turned his back and allowed jealousy to cloud his vision and common sense.

That had hurt him the most, truthfully, as it became a frightful reminder to him of a 'friend' that he'd had in primary school. Ron was ruled by his jealousy and had shown his true colours on more than one occasion, now that he looked back on it objectively.

Hermione was an awesome friend, smart and kind and clever and faithful, but she trusted books and adults in positions of authority far too much for his own comfort.

It was strange, in retrospect, that preparing to face the dangerous tournament and potential death, surviving on his own hard work, had resulted in his thirst for knowledge being reborn with a vengeance. Much like a certain significant other, really.

He had wanted to gain a deeper understanding of the magic around him, the knowledge and insight into his own magic. His own truth.

And then there was Cedric.

Dear Lord that had been a disaster.

Harry blushed a furious fire-engine red as he recalled his first encounter with the elder male during the summer.

He had fallen coming out of the portkey, typical of him, right into the boy's arms. There had been a moment of pause, where his heart attempted to evacuate its place in his chest and his breathing had stopped. The other boy had gently set him back on his feet, laughing good naturedly and waving Harry's stammered apologies away, dismissing the blush on his cheeks as a reaction to falling in public. The uncomfortable sensation he had felt… down there… later that evening in the shower when thinking about the encounter had terrified him out of his mind, and he had latched onto the most bearable and appropriate female to crush on; Cho Chang.

And then came Voldemort and Cedric's… anyway, that year had ended disastrously without even taking into account Fudge being a blathering idiot. The twat.

Fifth year was haunted by nightmares, slander and Sirius. He could still remember the terror he had felt when he thought Sirius was being tortured and killed, and the panicked, fool-hardy plan he concocted on the notion of saving him.

But he had ended up killing him instead.

Harry had felt a part of himself, a crucial part, all that was left really; shatter as he watched the man fall through the Veil. Sirius had gazed at him, arms outstretched, with feelings of love and regret for leaving him on his face, and only Lupin's arms wrapped around his waist had stopped him from jumping right after his godfather, his, in all ways but blood, _father_. His anchor to the world.

And then, of course, bare hours later, there was that damned prophecy that Dumbledore decided he was 'of sufficient age' to know! According to _Trelawny_, the fucking insect of a woman, it was kill or be killed.

And about the Horcruxes… with all the information that the Headmaster revealed to him it was no wonder that Harry, already being in an incredibly delicate state of grief, rage and hate, blew up his office.

The Old Coot deserved it, in his opinion.

Apparently, it had _only_ been in his opinion.

The second half of the year was spent searching for the horcruxes and grieving. Oh, and the Ministry finally admitting that He-Whose-Name-Must-Be-Hyphenated was not a figment of Harry's insane and broken mind and was actually back from the dead.

The year had been a nightmare; no two ways about it.

All of this had led to one very important event; Voldemort had waged an attack on Hogwarts, and the war began.

Harry had fought in the front lines and he shuddered at the memories. The blood stained stone walls of the ancient castle. Hagrid died that day. As did Ginny and Dean and Colin and Dennis along with almost a hundred other students and personnel. Harry at least killed Nagini, who was a suspected horcrux, and faced down Moldyshorts himself before Dumbledore stepped in. The Death-munchers retreated when Voldemort did.

But that was not the end

_Harry panted heavily as he stood his ground, lifting his chin both victoriously and defiantly in the direction of Voldemort's retreat._

_Blood had dripped from his forehead, his scar, and various other injuries even as he kept a death grip on his broken wand. Looking up, he smiled in relief at Dumbledore, the man had saved his life once again._

_Blue eyes looked at him with no familiar twinkle as Dumbledore's face was set in neutral, his wand raising to point directly at Harry. He stepped back, confused and slightly afraid of his mentor._

_"Sir?" he rasped out, voice hoarse from screaming so many names and shouting so many spells. "Is something wrong?"_

_Dumbledore shook his head softly and smiled sadly, the action half-hidden by his beard. "I am afraid, my dear, dear, brave boy, that I have discovered what the prophecy meant."_

_Green eyes shone with hope as Harry eagerly asked, "What is it sir?" thinking that maybe there was a way out of this nightmare for him._

_"Harry, I did a spell to locate Voldemort's horcruxes using your blood. It was a stretch but it worked seeing as he now possesses your blood as well. I have located them and destroyed all but three. You killed Nagini which leaves us with two. One in a vault in Gringotts which is being destroyed as as we speak. That leaves only the last." Dumbledore took a deep breath and held his wand steadier, pointing it directly between Harry's eyes._

_The next moment was a blur as Harry found himself disarmed and at wand point from all sides. Looking around, he saw all the professors and even Ron and Hermione pointing their wands at him coldly. Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Luna, Neville and Remus, he noticed, were being physically restrained by Order Members._

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?" An incredulous, familiar voice thundered from nearby, and he turned to see Snape, Dr-Malfoy and several other Slytherins and people, Tonks among them and Moody, being held next to the others._

_"Potter!" Dra-Malfoy called in alarm as Dumbledore cast a spell and black chains bound Harry._

_"I am sorry, my boy, but for the greater good you must die." And then everything went black._

_When Harry came to he was in a cell, shackled to the wall in black chains and wandless. Everyone, save those few, had agreed, had betrayed him. His life for theirs, one life for millions. They were going to extract and destroy the soul; which would probably kill him._

_The cell, he knew, was in Azkaban. Thankfully, this particular section was not patrolled by dementors, or anyone for that matter; food appeared alone._

_He was just another object to be destroyed; locked away until then. It had been almost three weeks of nothing to do but think and stare out of the enchanted window._

And now, on the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Harry James Potter was going to die by the hands of those he had called friends and family in a ritual.

Harry sighed as he stared up at nothingness. The time in complete isolation, the others in cells nearby on what he now knew was referred to as 'Death Row' too afraid to speak to him, had changed things. He actually thought about his life and came to the conclusion that the only people who ever truly knew him were the Dursleys.

The had never pretended to care or be interested in him for hidden agendas.

This, in his eyes at least, was considerably more humane than toying with a human being for years before driving in the knife poised at their back.

Dumbledore saw him as a weapon. Ron saw him as his ticket to fame. Hermione may have seen him as a friend, but she also say him as The Saviour. The professors just saw him as his parents.

To the world, he was their sacrifice; their scapegoat.

No one knew Harry.

And that hurt.

Hurt more than anything.

"So what, they're just going to lock us in here until it's over?" Draco Malfoy snarled angrily as he paced the rooms that he and the others who had vouched for Harry had been locked in to keep them 'out of the way'.

"No. They said they're going to give us the body so we can give it a 'proper burial'." Remus Lupin snarled in response from his position against the wall.

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" Neville demanded from where he sat next to Luna. "You don't even like him!"

"W-well, I just… I mean, I don't… not… like him…" Draco finally muttered in reply after several moments of stammering and light blushing.

"Sure." Snape drawled from his position much like Lupin's, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth as his godson's embarrassment.

"Shut up, Sev! We have bigger things to worry about!" He snapped.

"Draco's right." Blaise Zabini joined the conversation, along with Crabbe and Goyle, as well as Pansy Parkinson and Theo Nott.

"What about you lot?" Theo turned to the four Weasleys that sat near the fireplace.

"Hart's our-" one of the Weasley twins started.

"Little brother." The other finished.

"We would protect him from anything, even our own family." Bill added from his seat next to Fleur, Charlie nodding solemnly.

"We're related, you know?" Tonks shrugged. "Besides, it's kinda hard to not like him, if you know what I mean."

"Yep…" Lavender Brown sighed, along with the Patil twins, Terry Boot sitting with Neville and Luna.

"He's a good guy. He doesn't deserve this!" Terry protested vehemently.

"I know!" Draco thundered, suffering a minute loss of control. "I know." He repeated much quieter.

"Whatever. No matter what happens, I hope Dumbledore chokes on a Lemon Drop." Parvati spat viciously.

"I'm sure the hellaphumpfs will assist us if we ask. And the Thestrals. They were quite fond of him, too." Luna's misty voice rose in the room.

"…What the hell are 'hellaphumpfs'?"

Footsteps approached the cell causing Harry to turn his head to the newcomer. Violet robes with moons and stars met his vision. Harry's blood boiled viciously as he realised exactly who was standing outside his cell. Dumbledore. The man he had trusted and looked up to.

The man who betrayed him.

Oh, Harry felt rage and contempt for the man. Dumbledore was trying to save the world, a world he saw as his own personal chess board. The feelings were conflicted but Harry knew one thing:

He definitely felt betrayed. Of course, there was a bit of confusion as he remembered people he thought hated him fighting to reach him.

But whatever naivety that was left in him after all those years was totally gone now. The world was a cruel, painful, sorrow-filled place. And he was expendable.

"It is time Harry. The new moon is almost in position. I am sorry my boy, but you must understand that this is the only way." The old man spoke with a voice tinged in sadness, and Harry couldn't decide if it was an act or not. If everything was an act or not. He refused to respond and instead continued to gaze, dead-like, out the window, with its bars so reminiscent of the Dursley's. looking out at the blackness, Harry contemplated what little they had deigned to tell him about his own death.

The ritual had to be done in the new moon, which happened to be the night before his birthday. He would have liked to at least turn 16. It had to be performed by six people, with Harry the seventh to make it a magical number. Two of which, at the least, must have a strong emotional connection to him. They would extract the soul and destroy it, breaking it's bonds to Harry's magic and Harry would die as well because the soul was so intertwined with his own.

And, of course, they couldn't 'risk' not killing him anyway because Harry might get possessed by the horcrux and they would just _hate _to fight him. Nor could they risk Voldemort being able to draw on Harry's magic. After Voldemort, Dumbledore may not be strong enough to overcome Harry's raw magical power. They were sorry, but it was the only way. They locked him up, so he couldn't run. He shouldn't fight them because he was saving everyone else, unlike how he had fauled to save everyone during the battle at Hogwarts.

The words blurred together into one running dialogue, spoken in a voice sounding suspiciously like Tom Riddle's. They took his freedom, his magic and now his life.

"I've been left out alone like a damn criminal, I've been praying for help cause I can't take it all. I'm not done, it's not over." He sang softly, before all thought was stopped abruptly as he was hit with a stunner.

Voices echoed ominously off what felt to be a stone floor as Harry woke up. He was in a very uncomfortable position, shivering in the cold as he realised he was not wearing anything. The black shackles remained on his wrists and ankles, a few links of the chain remaining before they reached the point where they had obviously been cut. Harry kept still and feigned sleep as he listened intently for more information.

"It's almost time, Albus." Came McGonagall's voice. It was reluctant, Harry noticed as he hid a sad smile at the betrayal of his head of house. The one person who could always be counted on within Hogwarts to be fair had also turned her back on him. Harry almost sighed again as he once again pounded it into his head that the world was selfish and would sacrifice him to save themselves.

It was the age old question; did killing one innocent person to save many atone for the murder?

Well, if he survived maybe he could go into philosophy, he mused mentally.

"There is no other way, is there Headmaster?" came Hermione's nervous voice, but there was an undercurrent of excitement that made Harry cringe. Even at the cost of his life she craved knowledge.

A snort made Harry realise Ron was there as well, most likely intended as his emotional anchors. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hermione and Ron, that made four. There were still two more mystery people plotting his death. Four were, of course, needed for the actual spell so they would need to be proficient in magic.

"He's awake." Came a voice that stopped Harry's heart for just a moment before he hardened it.

Mr and Mrs Weasley, he realised angrily. He had trusted them! Considered them his family, and they betrayed him? How dare they!

He opened his eyes to see himself kneeling in the center of a six-sided star, with each of his murderers standing at each point.

"Harry," Hermione finally said in her 'lecture' voice, "you have to understand. This is the only way. The Headmaster explained it to us as I'm sure he has you. Otherwise you know we would never do this! But, Harry, this is to save the world, our families."

Emerald eyes turned to stare at the girl, stare into her soul and seemingly divinely judge her. "You were my family." He said in a monotone.

"Harry, this is to save everyone, I'm sorry, but-" Mrs Weasley started.

"No!" Harry cut her off viciously. "That is just an excuse. This is the easiest way out for you all, I _understand_ perfectly. I know the world would fear my power, because no one can defeat Voldemort except for me. And if I'm the only one who can beat him, who can beat _me_, right? If you were in my place, I would have fought to save you. So no, I refuse to understand and I refuse to lie down and die just because I have the least to lose." He said it so coldly it seemed to make the temperature in the room go down.

A snort broke the silence that had descended as the group took in the truth of his words and Ron addressed his 'friend'. "Mate, it may be the easy way out but at least it'll bloody well work. I would trust you to save the world, no way! Sure you're good at DADA but to take down You-Know-Who? No way would I put my life in _your _hands. And besides, I don't see why you're complaining. You'll go down in history as a hero all. Over. Again."

"Then I hope you will be happy to go down in history as the man who betrayed his best friend and killed him for fame and glory, Weasel."

Dumbledore clapped his hands, and everyone turned to face him but Harry. "It is time. In your places, if you please."

There was a silence of dialogue as people shuffled around, and Harry took that opportunity to look at his surroundings. He was in a stone room that had no ceiling to allow for the moonlight, or lack thereof, to filter in. Judging by the stone and the condensed magic in the air Harry concluded that he was still in Hogwarts. Well, that and the Hogwarts coat of arms hung by the entrance of the room.

Finally they stopped moving and stood around the shape facing Harry, drawing him out of his musings. He stared at the figures of McGonagall and Dumbledore, betrayal and contempt written all over his face. In the corner of his vision he could see Hermione wringing her hands and gazing at him imploringly, while Ron just looked bored.

Some best friend.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what must be done to save himself. He wasn't sure it would work, but it was the best he could come up with given the limited information and time.

His magic burned under his skin like fire, yet flowed throughout his body like water. It hummed softly like the wind and roiled angrily when they began to chant like a thunderstorm, ice spreading through his veins, as it hardened like rock for the incoming blow. No one had ever known exactly how much power he had, causing Harry to mentally grin. It uncoiled and wrapped his being in it, and he could feel it simmering just below the surface, ready to fight the intrusion.

He could make out the voices. It wasn't something he recognised, but sounded a little like a combination of Latin and Gaelic and certainly didn't sound pleasant, in any case. Harry opened his eyes slowly, quietly he watched them as the ritual continued. The lines and runes drawn into the floor with chalk brightened with a green light, a killing curse green. The green of his eyes. Power travelled along the lines, encasing Harry within it and building up for its attack as the chanting rose to fever pitch.

And like a too tightly strung rubber band, the magic snapped.

Harry felt it a mere moment before he saw it happen, but that moment was enough for Harry to throw up his hands and fight off the sensation, trying to stop it with his own magic. The green light burnt through him like a flame so hot he did not know whether it was ice or fire.

Screaming, Harry forced his magic out, trying desperately to combat the foreign magic and its insidious intent. But it was no use, the runes magnified the power of the six and aimed it at Harry, its overall power increased by the moon's position and stage. Were it not for those factors, Harry knew he would have won in an instant. And so did they.

Harry panicked as he felt the ritual's magic try to separate his soul from his magic and body, the bonds created between the three parts when he was conceived deteriorating. Harry's throat was burning from screams that sounded inhuman even to his own ears. But the pain! It was ripping his magic apart and his soul was breaking. His body and mind weren't far behind.

And then he saw it. A black shape, tendrils swirling like smoke, and attacked it, forcing it to exit himself with his magic and screaming from the pain in his scar as Voldemort's soul was being released from his own.

Finally, he felt the release, and it was destroyed in a burst of light from the ritual, and Harry cut loose with all of his power, forcing every drop within himself into rebounding the magic from the ritual.

The six remained blissfully unaware of the internal struggle as they watched Harry scream. Then, as the horcrux dissolved into hisses and screams of an inhuman nature, almost as horrible as Harry's own, the magic rushed and encased the boy to complete the last part of the ritual; ripping apart what was left of Harry's soul and magic and thus ensuring he could not be a threat.

They were not, however, expecting the power to implode and swirl in a mass around Harry, whose eyes were glowing with the magic, before rushing back and throwing them into the walls behind them.

Harry panted as he knelt in place, looking at the floor as he tried to stay conscious. Each breath felt like a chore and his world was tilting dangerously on its axis, falling in and out of focus. Gritting his teeth, Harry forced himself to look around and noted that all six figures were out cold. Good.

For a small moment, a part of Harry shattered yet again and he worried over their condition, but the rest of his screamed to run. Run far away and as fast as possible because when they woke up they would be after him, and they would try again to kill him using the ritual and the words 'for the Greater Good'.

He needed to leave and he needed to do it now!

Harry panted as he stumbled through Hogwarts, the unfamiliar hallways seeming to grow longer with every step he took. He could barely breathe and the world was a peculiar and disorientating combination of blurs and spinning. He grasped at the stone walls and forced his body onwards through pure force of will. He bit his lip to the point of blood to stop a cry of pain emitting from his throat as his body jolted, nerves misfiring pain all over his body.

He knew that if anyone found him now he would be killed on sight.

Gritting his teeth Harry pushed forwards again, supporting his weight and his hands found purchase on the stone as his mind raced. Where could he go that would be safe? The whole wizarding world would be turned against him by this point. Dumbledore, he knew, would feed them lies about his treachery and evil and how he must be hunted like an animal.

The muggle world would only work for a short amount of time, Harry was no fool. They would do to him what they did to Sirius, releasing his face and name everywhere and track him through the police on false charges. Technology, 'twas a relationship of love and hate. And he wouldn't be allowed to use magic. The very thought made Harry's heart clench in fear. There was nowhere he could hide and no one he could turn to.

Magic strummed through the air then, causing Harry to jump and look around like a frightened wild animal, head whipping violently from left to right. The magic was a gentle caress and a soothing touch. Almost like a mother… Harry shook his head, he always had been more sensitive to magic and its sentient nature. His eyes narrowed and Harry rasped out; "Who's there and what do you want?"

Silent laughter chimed through the air in the magic as an unseen breeze ruffled his hair like a father's hand. The pure power then streamed in from all around him, cocooning Harry in its safety and security and silently promising refuge. Harry sagged in relief; the castle would never lie for it did not possess that human error. The subtle sensation of magic against him encouraged Harry and he pushed himself forwards. Strangely enough, he was guided towards the Great Hall, and he stumbled along while anxiously fearing that someone would appear in his way. He was in no condition to fight, that was for certain.

Harry gasped and clutched his stomach as he tried to breathe, each individual breath feeling as though he were trying to draw oxygen from water. There was a pulse of magic just ahead, and Harry forced himself to walk, emerald eyes hardening as he promised himself that he would not be caught.

Reaching the door after what felt like a marathon, he clasped the handle and winced as he felt the foreign magic rush over him. It tingled and almost seemed curious as it searched him and… copied him? Cutting off any further thought the door opened and Harry fell forwards with no warning.

Harry clenched his eyes and adopted the position for falls beaten into him by his relatives as he prepared for a hard and potentially incapacitating landing.

Instead, he felt a warm blanket of magic catch him before his back fell onto something soft. Opening his eyes Harry tried to sit up; he was in no condition to fight but he most certainly would not go down easily.

"Young master will be staying in bed or elses Mixie be tying him down! Young master being in no condition to be getting up. The Ladies be saying young master needing to rest and heal! The Ladies and Lords be's given you safety, young master." Scolded a high pitched, frighteningly familiar, voice from his right.

Harry's eyebrow rose incredulously in a look eerily reminiscent of Severus Snape as he slowly turned his head to see a very miffed house elf that was currently attempting to look threatening and, Harry mused, just ended up looking like Aunt Petunia when someone _insinuated _that 'Diddydums' was anything less than _perfect_. In other words, the little elf looked constipated.

Raising his hands in the universal gesture of surrender, Harry relaxed back into bed before deciding it was safe to speak. "Um… Mixie? Can I please just ask something before I sleep? Just one thing?" Harry implored with a small pout and puppy dog eyes. Mixie huffed but there was a fondness in the action that ruined its affect.

"Very wells, young master, but only being while Mixie checks young master." The elf informed him as she carefully scanned his body, mind and magic, making Harry frown at the sensation.

"Who are the Ladies and Lords you spoke of? And where are we?" Harry blurted out as he tried to keep his mind off the weird sensations running though his body.

"Youse being in Hogwarts, young master. The Ladies and Lords being told me to help young master and cared for youse. That Dumblydoor being done bad things. All house elves been bonded to Hoggywarts not headmaster." Mixie stopped abruptly and looked up at him with teary eyes.

The next instant, four figures appeared in the room. Harry sat up violently before falling backwards as the world spun and internally cursed himself for letting his guard down.

"Mixie is being sorry Ladies and Lords. Mixie been tried but too lates! Young master's soul and magic's bonds being breaking. Mixie does not know what to do!"

The four exchanged looks, and one said something softly, before Harry knew no more.

Draco Malfoy stared in horror as they were shown Harry's last moments. He was screaming in pure agony and Draco felt a tear fall down his cheek.

Some in the room were openly sobbing, Severus had clenched his fists so hard his nails broke skin and Lupin was rocking back and forth in a corner, begging somebody or other for this to be a bad dream.

"Wait! Look!" Luna's voice, sharper than any had ever heard it made them all look up in time to see the magic rush back at the six would-be murderers and throw them into the walls hard enough to knock them out.

Neville and a few more rambunctious members of the room cheered outright as they watched Harry hobble out of the room.

Draco felt a grin split his face, and he turned to face his godfather, Severus Snape, who let a smile quirk his normally stern mouth.

The action changed his face completely and he seemed to lose 20 years, Draco noted absently as he nodded in reply before Severus walked over and handed Lupin a handkerchief.

All, it seemed, was not lost.

"Hey! I know!" Neville spoke up suddenly, gaining the attention of the others in the room.

"What is it, boy?" Moody said gruffly from where he had been attempting to stop Tonks' ungodly wailing.

"Let's make a group like the DA called Potter's Legion!"

"…"

Harry woke up slowly, feeling as though he had been asleep for a lifetime. His limbs were heavy and he felt… _different_.

"What?" he mumbled as he struggled to open his eyes.

"There, there, Harry. It's alright, you're safe." A voice, soothing and kind spoke as he sat up slowly, and he felt a feminine hand gently rub his back.

Another soothed his upper arm and he raised his hand to rub his wrist, upon which there was an uncomfortable sensation, when he felt it.

Shackles.

It all came back to him, and he gasped in panic and began to lash out at those around him.

"Salazar! Get a calming draught! Godric, get over here a hold the poor boy down!" A sharper voice, still a woman's, barked orders and he heard the rustling of cloths as the aforementioned people rushed to obey her.

He felt two strong, warm hands gently wrap around him and he was pulled into a strong chest in a firm embrace that hindered his attack. And yet, it was not violent, but calming and Harry found himself relaxing into it, slowly.

His hands fisted the shirt and he burrowed into the chest for warmth, and Harry felt a keening sound raise within his throat, choking him as he began to shake.

"I take it we won't be needing the calmi-" the new voice, a male's and to his left was cut off by the harsh and hysterical sob that wrenched from his chest. "I spoke too soon."

"Shut up, Sal!" a fourth voice, from directly above him and rumbling through the warm chest he was pressed against scolded the other man lightly, who just sighed and audibly rolled his eyes before pressing a vial to Harry's lips.

Harry opened his mouth automatically and swallowed the foul tasting mixture, too busy crying to really stop and consider the taste as he cried into the first real, _true _hug he had had in far too long, clinging to the man like a lifeline.

"Oh, baby, it's alright now. You're safe with us, and we're here." The very first voice to speak gently soothed him and the hand returned to rubbing his back.

"…I feel weird." He finally said, after a long time of sobbing to crying to hiccupping to breathing shakily.

"That's to be expected. We saved your life, but we had to… change some things about you, dear heart." The second woman's voice spoke.

"What? What things?" Harry pulled from the embrace, panicking slightly again. It was then that it occurred to him. His heartbeat. It was slow, far too slow, almost non-existent when it should have been racing in terror or panic or _anything_. "What's wrong with me?" he cried, hiccupping slightly.

"Nothing, darling. You're just not…" the man in front of him -Godric?- began nervously.

"Human." –Salazar?- said bluntly. Obviously not one for beating around the bush, Harry thought snidely through his panic-induced haze.

"What. Do. You. Mean?" he asked almost too calmly, something that, wisely, his 'company' took to be the warning it was.

"You were dying. The bonds between your magic and soul and body were tearing so we infused you with Thestral blood to stop you from dying." Salazar replied.

"Thestral blood?!" Harry squawked.

"Yes. As a result, your heart beat for one. Also, you feel very cold to the touch, as though you've been dead for hours and there's no warmth in your body. And we have reason to believe it has reacted with the basilisk venom and phoenix tears within your bloodstream, which is something we had not been counting on."

"Why Thestral blood?!" he demanded an answer, complete with a quick, furious swipe through the air.

"Because Thestrals are creatures that have a very close tie with death, and were the most logical choice. Their tie with death gives their blood special properties. People just don't know that anymore."

"See for yourself, dearie." The woman pushed his gently forwards, and he stumbled over to the mirror where he took in his appearance in shock.

He almost didn't recognise himself.

His skin was white as snow, and his eyes… well, his right was still Avada green but his left was ice blue-purple. His physical appearance had changed, and he estimated himself at around 5'10", if he was generous, which was taller than he had ever thought he would be thanks to the Dursley's. He was thin, but lithe and softly muscled and he felt like he could pick up the castle and walk it to China. His face had changed, his cheekbones were much more defined and he was… well… utterly stunning, really. His lips were blood red, and his hair now fell in silky raven-locks to his shoulder-blades, the tips silvery-white and gold-white and there were streaks of midnight blue, deep purple and blood red running through his hair. On his back were two massive wings. They glowed like moonlight on the top, slivery-white, but the underside was such a dark purple it looked black and had tiny gold flecks in it like stars.

He gingerly placed two fingers above his pulse point and counted it out slowly.

**1**…2… 3… 4… **1**… 2… 3… 4…

It was slow. Too slow for a human to survive and yet, he seemed fine.

He stared at his claw-like nails intently, and took in their black colour. However, his left was tinted gold and his right tinted purple. "What…?"

"We believe that the purple, right ones are infused with basilisk venom, which is the most potent in the world, while the left seems to have healing properties, most likely infused with phoenix tears." Someone on the bed told him.

He focused back on his wings, and jumped as he saw the feathers light up in azure fire and crackle behind him softly, like a deadly aura of power. He opened his mouth hesitantly and watched in mixed horror and awe as two fangs ejected from his gums behind his canines and elongated, before folding against the roof of his mouth. He focused on combatting the new additions, and soon found himself with the 'normal' wings again and no fangs as the fire dissipated, much to his relief.

He gently fingered one of the streaks in his hair and dropped the coloured lock in shock when he realised that it was in fact fire, burning harmlessly and beautifully in his hair.

The shackles remained on his wrists and ankles, with a few chain links clinking on each, but they were made of beautiful obsidian and a part of him, he realised.

He turned slowly to face the others.

"I think we need to talk dear." The woman who had urged him over spoke. He nodded mutely.

.

.

.

"Okay…" Harry said as his brain caught up with what the hell just happened. "Let me get this straight. The four founders, when they got old, performed soul magic to bind their power, hearts and souls to the school. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff won a bet and tied themselves to the castle itself while Gryffindor and Slytherin tied themselves to the wards." He summarised in a slightly shaky tone.

"Yep, that's about the gist of it." Godric _Gryffindor _said cheerfully as he shot Harry a grin.

"Just don't make us repeat ourselves." Salazar _Slytherin _told him tersely, though the soft affection in his eyes betrayed his tone.

"All right. Now what?" he asked, looking them all in the eye.

"Well, we would like to introduce you to some people…" Helga trailed off.

"Or rather, re-introduce you." Rowena amended bluntly.

"No tact whatsoever. Sure you're not a Gryffindor?" Salazer snarked softly, smirking. (AN: Try saying that ten times fast. Go on, you know you want to ;)

"Hey!" Godric protested indignantly.

"Oh, uh, no offense." Salazar said slyly, smiling (AN: I did it again!) in a way that showed absolutely no sincerity.

"Offense. Taken." Godric shot back.

"Would you two shut up?!" Harry snapped from where he had been rubbing his temples, already feeling the impending head ache that was the two of them.

"…fine." They muttered in unison.

"You know," Harry started, "the problem with you two is that you are exactly alike." He smirked at their dual looks of horror.

"We are nothing alike!" They protested vehemently together, before shooting each other twin looks of disdain and turning away with a huff, crossing their arms over their chests like petulant children, the whole act a perfect mirror image of the other.

"Suuuure." Harry drawled, arching one eyebrow in a decidedly Snape-like manner.

"Yes. Sure." Godric stuck his tongue out at Harry childishly, and for an agonizing moment he saw Sirius in the motion.

"…ry….rry….Harry!" A feminine voice cut into his thoughts and he snapped back to reality to see the four founders staring at him in varying stages of shock and worry.

"Sorry." He apologised, blushing sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't worry about it." Salazar told him with a sympathetic smile.

"…thanks. And who were these people you wanted me to meet?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Ah, yes! I think you'll be happy to see the people who supported you, yes?"

"People… supported me?" Harry asked slowly, trying not to cry.

"Yes, dear. Some more vocally than others, but the majority pf the population is just waiting for you to say the word and stage a coup de tat. They will happily help you in that endeavour, and I do believe Dumbledore will be on the receiving end of more than one howler. And prank. Fred and George Weasley seemed especially mad… Harry, dear? Are you all right?!" Rowena trailed off as she caught sight of the grateful and teary face of Harry Potter.

"Oh, Merlin! The creature blood has had more of an effect than we anticipated! He's a freaking submissive!" Salazar cried.

"Submissive?! What does that mean? It means I'm weak, doesn't it?! I have a madman after me, I can't be weak!" Harry cried harder.

"Not at all! On the contrary, you are quite possibly the most powerful person in the world. The creature blood has just enhanced it." Godric reassured him, shooting Salazar a dirty look.

"Some argue that submissives are the most powerful creatures, but are balanced by their passive and kind natures, otherwise they would probably be ruling the world by now. No need to worry, dear!" Helga told him gently. "And plus, I'll give you a few tips for wrapping your doms around your little finger once you mate, dear heart." She added with a cheeky wink.

Harry smiled at her, albeit a watery smile even as his eyes glistened. "Thanks." He said stuffily, gratefully accepting the handkerchief she handed him. "Can we go see them now?"

"There's just one thing we have to do first, darling." Helga rubbed his back as his eyes watered again and his face fell.

"I… I don't understand why I f-feel like this…" he cried softly. "I h-hate it! I feel so powerful and at the same time helpless and alone! And something inside of me keeps screaming and crying as though its heart has been ripped from its chest! Why do I feel like this? Why can't I stop crying?" he pleaded for an answer.

"It's just your submissive hormones settling in. Soon you won't feel any of it, I promise. And in a way, that ties in with what we're about to do." Salazar told him as he perched on the edge of the bed that Harry had fallen on in shock earlier.

He nearly jumped from his seat when Harry went from curled against the pillows to in his lap in less than a second, moving so fast a breeze blew through the room but he wasn't visible.

"Wh-" Salazar started to protest, but he was shushed by Godric as Harry snuggled under his chin and into his chest, fisting his robes as he sighed happily.

"He's just finding security and protection from the nearest appropriate person." Helga reassured him. "Right now, that would be yourself and Godric."

"He needs to feel protected and cared for by a 'dominant' or male. Just put up with it while we talk." Rowena ordered him ruthlessly. He sighed softly, but couldn't bring himself to dislike the feeling of the warm and beautiful boy on his lap, so trusting and gentle. He ran his fingers through the silky strands and relished the feeling of the flames running through them like cool running water with the hair.

"You do realise you can't keep him, right?" Godric asked amusedly. Salazar just stuck his tongue out in response.

"Now. Harry, I need you to focus for a while, and then we'll go see your friends. I'm sure they'll be happy to let you stay with them for a while. They're very nice and love you lots." Helga coaxed. Harry's head resurfaced from Salazar's robes and he nodded in compliance.

"Good. Now, this anklet is going to allow you to seal away any and or all of your attributes, depending on which you want activated when." Rowena took up the explanation as she held up a platinum chain that had glittering diamonds hanging from it.

"Okay…" Harry replied, listening attentively as Rowena explained to him how it would work. He closed his eyes and focused on sealing away all of them, and when he opened his eyes, all the diamonds were in various shapes and had become black. "Wow…" he breathed as he looked in the mirror and took in the no less beautiful but now completely human version of his other self.'

He lifted his foot gently and examined the anklet in reverence, examining the beautiful black diamonds in various shapes, as opposed to the small chunks of diamonds that used to hang there.

He gently touched the wings, the flames twined around each other, the fang, the claw, the claw with liquid dripping down it, the much larger flame, the heart, the celtic rune for speaker, a shard of ice, a cloud with a lightning bolt, gust of wind and a chain and shackle. He smiled softly as he fingered the figure that looked exactly like him, with hands held together and fingers intertwined in front of him, head bowed as though he were praying. That obviously represented his submissiveness as a whole. He understood that he would never be fully free of it, and he could still feel it within him, but it was much less overwhelming than it had been. Though he still didn't want to get up off of Salazar's lap, but the man didn't seem to mind too much.

"Now, shall we?" Rowena clapped her hands together and stood. "How much do you want them to know Harry?"

"As much as possible." He replied, his instincts screaming at him to not lie to them.

"As you wish. You can reactivate your attributes if you want, then." Helga told him as she took his hand and led him down a hall and to a door, the black diamonds fading to the clear ones during the walk as his attributes reappeared, though they stayed the shape they had been.

She opened it slowly, and Harry stepped through, wings and all.

"Harry!" A voice cried, and he turned to find the shocked stares of some of the last people he had expected to see.

"What the hell?" Fred and George cried and Harry just couldn't not laugh, even as he ran forward to embrace them, lifting his head and gently nudging the underside of their chins, whining softly yet high-pitched in his throat in a gentle demand for attention.

"Allow us to explain…" Rowena began as she and the other founders stepped through and sealed the wall behind them.

.

.

.

"No way! Sheesh, mate, you don't do things by half, do you?" Fred laughed as he eyed Harry, who had curled up in their arms during the explanation, before moving to Neville who happily, albeit uncertainly, stroked his hair and murmured his hellos.

Lavender cuddled him like a mother would and squealed softly in happiness when he responded like so, curling into her side, an action repeated by both the Patil twins.

"What's he doing?" Draco asked as he watched Harry nuzzle Seamus Finnigan's neck and whine softly when Seamus didn't cuddle him back fast enough.

"He is familiarizing himself with all of you. He will begin to see you all as family. You need to remember that his submissive side has not settled yet and you need to be tolerant." Salazar replied, shooting a pointed look at Severus who just nodded coolly.

Dean Thomas picked Harry up and spun him in the air before setting the slightly dizzy boy on the ground next to Theo, whose lap he plonked down in before he fell over.

Theo stared at the boy who was quite happily sniffing and nuzzling his hair in shock, startled by the actions. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Harry misunderstood his lack of response and whined distraughtly, pulling back to gaze imploring at him. He quirked a soft smile and stroked Harry's wonderful hair back from his face, reassuring him with his actions even though he did not speak, as per usual for him, before placing him in Blaise's lap.

"Bon journo, Prezioso." Blaise greeted him softly in italian, his first language.

"Bon journo, signore." Harry replied softly, blushing softly at the shocked glances his friends sent him.

"You speak Italian?" Neville asked. Harry nodded shyly, resting his head on Blaise's shoulder.

"I speak a lot of languages." Was all he said in reply though. "Grazie per avermi permesso di incontrarvi." (Thank you for allowing me to meet you (AN: I got this off of Google Translate, my new best friend, because I have absolutely NO talent in languages, so I apologise for any errors here on out) Harry said to Blaise as he took one more inhale of the olive skinned italian's scent and plonked down in the middle of Pansy and Daphne Greengrass, both of whom began to fawn over him like doting sisters or mothers, much to his delight as he nuzzled the girls.

He moved on rather quickly though, and sat on the ground in front of Crabbe and Goyle in the lotus position, smiling serenely as they grinned at him without saying anything. He moved over the Tonks and bear-hugged her, turning her hair pink as she flushed with happiness and embarrassment and practically being manhandled by the tiny boy.

Luna sat next to him. "You have hornacks in your hair." Was all she said before she began combing her fingers through the locks and searching for them dreamily.

Terry Boot just gave him a soft, slightly awkward sideways hug before moving away, though it didn't bother Harry much who already had his eyes on his next victim.

He nuzzled Charlie and Bill's chins, necks and shoulders happily, making sounds of encouragement as they stroked his hair and held his hands, going as far to lick them a couple of times and bite down gently, especially on their hair for the latter in his joy at seeing them again. Fleur, remembering her Veela inheritance, whispered praise to him in French for his grace and tact with which he was handling the situation, which started a soft conversation in said language between the two before he moved on.

He curled up in Remus' arms for a good ten minutes as the others talked, waiting for the perfect moment which came in the form of Draco and Severus sitting next to each other on the couch to listen to the founders' conversation better. He rose quickly after one more kiss to Remus' stubbled jaw before climbing onto Severus' lap and nuzzling the underside of his jaw, almost purring with happiness as Severus began to return the embrace. He turned his head to Draco's and licked his neck softly, purring even louder as the blond began to gently comb his hair with his fingers. He turned his body so he was equally in Severus and Draco's lap and began rubbing his cheek against the two Slytherins' robes, hair, cheeks and shoulders, inhaling their scent as much as possible.

After almost an hour, he curled up even firmer against the two warm bodies and fell asleep.

"I trust we can leave him with the lot of you?" Godric asked sternly as he stared at the occupants of the room.

"Yes sir." Neville replied for everyone.

"Take good care of him, you two!" Helga smiled, waving at Draco and Severus before following her friend out.

"We'll be back in the morning. Get some rest." Rowena said as she brought up the rear, almost no emotion in her voice whatsoever.

"…umm… how are we supposed to sleep?" Draco asked, only to receive a sigh from Severus and a happy snuffle from Harry, whose grip became even firmer on his robes.

"Oh boy." Neville sighed as he stood up and scooped Harry into surprisingly strong arms and lay down on the large, square settee with the small, suddenly oh-so-delicate boy curled into his side.

"It's… kind of hard to believe he is so powerful, you know?" Seamus whispered softly as he kneeled next to Harry and stroked some raven hair off the boy's face.

"I just can't imagine him a killer, even though he… with You-Know-Who and all…" Charlie intoned, his expression unreadable from across the room as he sat with his back against the wall and one knee against his chest to rest his arm upon, brows furrowed in thought.

"Oui. 'Arry is too… too kind and gentle to be the Boy-Who-Lived that the world wanted him to be. I fear he wouldn't have survived the aftermath, much less without this." Fleur was curled against Bill's side, watching Harry with almost motherly concern and fondness on her face.

"Maybe this is for the best." Blaise said, drawing the attention of the room's occupants. "I mean, he can be whomever he wants now, right? No expectations, no past to haunt him, just… Harry."

"Just Harry." Draco repeated. "Speaking of which, why are you here again?" he asked suddenly, turning onto his oldest friend with a bit of aggression in his stance.

"You're my best friend." Blaise replied solemnly. Just as Draco started to relax, he added "And Harry's kinda cute too" which made Draco puff up like a blowfish in subconscious jealousy, much to some persons' amusement.

"Come now, we should be getting to sleep everyone." Severus informed them, relaxing into his 'don't mess with me Potions Professor' attitude as he ushered the others to their respective resting areas.

A small hand gripping his sleeve stopped him from moving when he began to, and he sighed softly, incapable of summoning and actual anger as he eyed the boy now curled up next to his godson, the Gryffindor Longbottom having moved earlier, sitting down gently next to the boy's head, leaning against the settee and falling asleep, not noticing the small fingers lacing together with his.


End file.
